Walking into the Dream

 

A number of

Autumn colored trees

Lined up in a row,

Raining petals of flowers

To greet her in a vow.

 

And the Moon

Ascending gently

On its throne

Ushers her in

To the dream

She has never been.

 

And she walks on;

Her wings unleashed. 

© Atique R. 

Ode on a Green Dot

 

Green Dot

Watching the green dot

On your insta Id

I can spend hours, dear

Dreaming a sweet lunar shot.

 

Feeling your presence

Under the same blue sky

With just a beaming green dot,

I can let time crawl past me

With my wings gone unshackled for a fly

In the Moon-blanched night.

 

With a green dot

Staring at me, dear

Like a thousand fireflies,

I can drown my soul

Into your drunkening eyes

For a whole long winter...

 

Watching the green dot

Ringing the beats of my heart

From the blank chatbot,

I can draw with the dew, dear

Hundreds of couplets

With my soul-draining essence 

To share my unworded feelings

In a deafening silence...

© Atique R. 

Chasing the Blue Rose

 

The time, seemingly

Melted and stagnant,

Was creeping past

The new dawns slow,

Like the relentless

Waves of an ocean;

Sometimes riding high,

Some other times low,

But without ever ceasing to flow.

 

And then I met her

On my rebirth

After the third death

In an unfathomed hollow. 

She was the beauty

I ever craved to pen a poem for

With all my soul-draining essence;

With the undiscovered words

Cradling onto the edges of a shore

And the musing melody of silence.

 

Then I asked her

To come, walk together

With the dances

Of a summer rain,

Draining out all

Worries and pain

To float the souls forever...

 

And then she denied

With a mysterious smile

And a fragrance floating over

Like the earlier lives

I was born for a blue rose form her

And to stop chasing lives forever...

© Atique R. 

The Forgotten Clan

 

The Forgotten Clan

Our days pass by

In bread without butter.

And there are nights;

We come home late

To skip the supper.

 

And we hear

The news of NASA,

Ploughing Mars

For water.

 

And we go to bed

In the winter slope;

Our dormant dreams

Lay frozen

With the light of hope

Shuttered.

 

We are common people

After all;

Quarrels and make noises

For a pinch of salt,

Leaving life

Way behind the wood

In struggles to catch

A meagre livelihood.

And we keep a smile

On our face;

Dry, real and bold.

© Atique R. 

Love and the Crescent Moon

 

I was lying on the dewy lawn

All all alone,

Watching the blooming Moon

Swinging carelessly on the torn

Fringes of long banana leaves.

And she was yet to come

With a hidden knife

In thirst of blood to cleave

Through my soaking dreams.

 

Hours gone by

With the night crawling alone

And to feel the glimpse

Of a crescent moon

Hanging high at the edge

Of a mysterious ridge,

I unlocked my soul cage

To fly along the misty breeze...

 

And then I looked

Down the lawn

Watching my body

Lying immobile

Like a heartless pawn

Screaming

In deafening silence,

'I loved you with my

Body and soul

In this illusive world

With a feeling undrawn,

Yet undiscovered and unknown...'.

© Atique R. 

Missing My Mom

Far from Home

 

My heart aches

Like a broken Moon

Shedding tears of glow

From an arched knee

Stuck into the west horizon.

 

My soul burns

Like the melting time

In the furnace

Fueled by the flaming Sun.

Caged in the celestial hollow;

The straws of memories

Keep drowning me

In the ice blue rhymes

Of the rhythmic flow.

 

And I miss my home

My sweet little home

Hundreds of miles away

Under the same crescent Moon.

And I just wanna tell you mom

I miss you with every little steps

You walked me along

With the first kisses of the Sun. 

 

In the searing anguish

And silent scream,

With all the words

Flooding into my stream

I just wanna tell you mom

‘I love you, I miss you…

Far from my home

Like a homeless man

Sharing the helpless sighs

From my freezing apartment

With the dwindling crescent Moon.

© Atique R. 

The Forgotten Flood

 

The rivulet of blood,

Streaming down the ridge

Of my low lying heart is 

Like a pool of stagnant water

Of a long forgotten flood.

And it was melting in well together

With the fretted hopes and aches

With no warmth of love:

To vaporize,

And to pour down again

In rain with droplets of yellow

For newer dreams

To take a replenishing shower.